


been putting out fires all my life

by elysiumwaits



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bonfires, Fade to Black, Kinktober 2020, M/M, No Smut, Sexual Tension, So Much Sexual Tension, lots of fire metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: Merlin's love for Arthur burns like a flame in his chest.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 110





	been putting out fires all my life

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, here's a ficlet. It's got a little bit of an abrupt ending, sorry, I just couldn't think of a zinger to end it on. This is the first thing I've posted in a while because life ate me and didn't stop. Happy kinktober?
> 
> Title is from James Blunt's "Bonfire Heart."

_And I've been looking at the stars for a long, long time  
I've been putting out fires all my life  
Everybody wants a flame, they don't want to get burned_

The bonfire that burns on the field is hot and bright, casting people and things in a glow that almost mimics daylight. Some are dancing to a fiddle being played. They swing each other around in joy, no longer having to fear the creatures living in the old, decrepit tower on the hill. Arthur and Merlin made sure of that. 

The bonfire is actually a celebration of them as well, just as much as it celebrates the village's freedom. Arthur's dancing with a blushing maid right now. She's young, barely into her thirteenth summer or so, tripping over her feet as she attempts to guide Arthur through the movements of the dance. It's a sweet thing of him to do, Merlin thinks -- the girl will always remember that once upon a summer, a king danced with her by the light of a fire. 

Merlin's been asked to dance a couple of times, but he's refused every one. He's content where he is, torn between watching the flames that flicker and crack and watching the way the light and shadows play across Arthur's face. It's not just his face. As Arthur moves, the shadows move with him, and the firelight flickers and cracks over his fine red tunic just as well as the bonfire itself. The longer that Merlin watches, the harder it is to tear his eyes away once more. The small dash of ale he's had certainly doesn't help any. He's not drunk, but he's a little loose. 

A little more reckless than usual.

He blinks, and suddenly Arthur's looking back.

He's switched partners, Merlin notices. Now there's a woman, hair in curls, clinging to Arthur. It sends a flash of irritation and jealousy through him, but it quickly evaporates as Arthur doesn't break eye contact. Maybe Merlin should worry about being caught staring. Maybe he should smile and nod, indicating approval he doesn't feel, and look away. Back to the fire or up at the stars. Anywhere else. But Merlin is caught in Arthur's gaze, warmed by the heat that he finds there. 

Merlin should look away.

Instead, the song ends. Arthur drops his gaze to smile at his partner and bow as they separate. He shakes his head, presumably refusing another dance or an invitation to something more private. It takes a lot for Merlin to look back at the bonfire, sure that Arthur will be swept up by another girl wanting to dance with the King of Camelot. 

So it's surprising when, a moment later, Merlin hears, "Enjoying yourself?" as Arthur drops onto the log next to him. His long legs stretch out towards the bonfire just as Merlin's do. He's close, thigh pressing against Merlin's. That physical contact, even through their clothes, is _hot._ Even next to the fire, Merlin suddenly feels cold everywhere else.

"Of course, sire," Merlin finally remembers to reply. He makes the mistake of glancing over at his king's face.

Arthur's still staring. Or rather, Arthur is _gazing_ , eyes dropping down to Merlin's lips and back up once more. "You're not dancing." 

"You've said it yourself, I'm a terrible dancer." There's something crackling through the air between them. Merlin wonders if he's imagining it, if it's just the sound of the bonfire and the ale getting to him. Maybe he just _wants_ to think that Arthur's looking at him like he's thinking of stripping Merlin down right then and there. He would blame the ale if he'd had enough to make him truly drunk. 

It gets better. Or maybe worse, Merlin's not sure. Either way, Arthur smirks, a little quirk of his lips that has Merlin going flush with heat. There's something happening here, he thinks wildly. 

"I think I could teach you." Arthur leans even closer, like he's going to share a secret. The light from the bonfire makes his eyes glint and glow. "But I also think you know more than you let on. Maybe we should start lessons in a private setting."

"Arthur." It comes out a little breathy, unbalanced. Merlin feels a tingle of something, thinks that his eyes may have gone molten gold. He hopes he can blame the fire for that if Arthur asks. 

The line of Arthur's body against Merlin's is scorching. Merlin thinks he should lean away, put some distance, but he can't bear it. Not when he's close enough he can soak up Arthur's body heat, warding off the chill of the early fall night better than the bonfire ever could. It's overwhelming when Arthur casually wraps his arm around Merlin's back. To anyone else, it would look like the king was tugging a trusted friend closer for a bawdy joke or something. To Merlin, though, it's a firm hold, laced with heated intent and heavy meaning. 

It also puts Arthur's face close enough to Merlin's that he could turn and kiss his king if he wanted to. If they were in private, in Arthur's room or hunting alone in the woods, Merlin's reckless enough he would do it, he knows. It's only the fact that they're in a public setting, under the watchful eye of the villagers that they just rescued, that gives Merlin pause. 

"I never thought that..." he manages to whisper out. 

"That I would feel the same?" Arthur's whispering too, breath hot on Merlin's cheek and ear. "I've been a coward. I told myself that it would be best to let your feelings dissipate, that they were only temporary. Maybe I'm braver now, Merlin. Or maybe I'm weak, and I just can't take the way you _look at me_ anymore."

Merlin gives a short laugh. "The way _I_ look at _you_? You-"

He doesn't get to finish. Arthur interrupts with, "Like you would do anything for me," and Merlin's breath stops for a second too long, before he can sigh out with shuddering lungs. 

Merlin would. He would serve Arthur until the last of his days, defend Camelot with his magic every day of his life. "I don't," Merlin starts, and doesn't know how to finish. "I would never ask repayment of you, I -"

"That's not what this is." Arthur's voice has gone rough, woodsmoke in Merlin's ear. There's a pause, as though he's waiting for Merlin to say something. Merlin can't think of a thing to say, though, can't come up with words that aren't Arthur's name. "You know," Arthur finally says, "the only room they were able to find for us in the inn has only a single bed. There's a fire in the grate, warm blankets... I think we could share, don't you, Merlin?"

The way that Arthur says his name, that gentle teasing emphasis on the first syllable and the lilt on the last, is something that Merlin's always held close as his. Now, it does him in, breaks the dam he'd tried to build around his tender feelings. "I think we could, sire," he says, unable to hold back his own smirk.

He can feel Arthur smile against his cheek. "You're flushed, Merlin. It's too hot here for you. Perhaps we should retire for the evening?"

Merlin licks his lips and feels the fire of heady arousal licking at the base of his spine. "That sounds perfect, sire," he says, and then adds, softly, "Arthur, take me to bed."

_People like us, we don't_  
Need that much just someone that starts  
Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts


End file.
